Breaking Inside
by javaeurok
Summary: The friendship/relationship/whatever you want to call it between Emily/JJ -and others- in the weeks before she gets sick effectively destroying her future plans, through the finding out, and the subsequent emotional and physical recovery.
1. A Little Goldschlager

**Title:** Breaking Inside  
**Pairing:** Emily/JJ  
**Rating:** T  
**Summary:** The friendship/relationship/whatever you want to call it between Emily and JJ (and others) in the weeks before she gets sick effectively destroying her future plans, through the finding out, and the subsequent emotional and physical recovery.  
**Inspiration:** Finding out 3 months ago that I have cancer and the Shinedown songs "Breaking Inside" and "The Crow & The Butterfly" that I've listened to every day since.  
**Author's Note:** Don't even think of judging this story by telling me that I don't take the subject seriously. I'm choosing to approach this situation like I have every other hardship in my life, with a little humor.

* * *

Emily Prentiss wandered into UltraBar several minutes after 8 pm, intending to spend a low key evening with her colleagues. Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan were seated together, and appeared to be talking amongst themselves. From her position across the bar, she could only see two of the four male's faces. Hotch's stoic expression gave nothing away in regard to the nature of their interaction and Spencer wasn't much more help, though for an entirely different reason. He seemed lost, and wholly out of sorts, but as Emily slowly approached, she could hear Derek's throaty laughs emanating from his frame, carrying over the music.

Emily nudged Derek away from an open barstool he'd been crowding while hunched over laughing, "Hey guys, sorry I'm late. I ran into a little traffic on 14th."

Spencer concluded, carelessly revealing the previous topic of conversation, "Its fine. We figured all of you ladies had ditched us anyway."

Hotch echoed the first sentiment with as much of a smile as he's capable of, "We're glad you could make it."

"What do you mean? It's just me." Emily looked around as if she were going to see hidden cameras before fully parking herself on her stool, "So no Garcia or JJ yet?"

Several no's we're heard, before Reid added, "Statistically speaking, 52% of car accidents happen within 5 miles of home and 69% occur within 10 miles of home."

Derek looked at him with a _'what the fuck'_ face and turned his palms up as a silent but animated question as to why he would say something like that. Then, as quickly as his face contorted, it normalized; after all, it is Reid.

Prentiss asked with mock seriousness, "Spence, what's with the negativity tonight?"

"I'm… I'm… I'm not being negative. I was just… I…," Dr. Reid paused to catch a glimpse of Emily's cheeky grin before continuing, "nevermind."

While laughing, Emily advised, "It's probably a good thing that they're not within 10 miles of their home then, huh? Anyway, I'll call to find out what's going on. Maybe they're still on 14th too; it's quite backed up."

Emily sifted through her phone contacts before hitting the green call button. Two rings later, JJ answered professionally, "Jareau."

Emily spoke playfully, "Miss Jareau, what's up? You're late!"

"Am not. I'm at 911 S Street! Now, unless we're planning on drinking at this elementary school; your directions are a bunch of sorely mistaken liars."

Sighing belligerently, "JJ. No. We're at 911 F… as in fool. Got it? F Street?"

JJ giggled, "Oh, well yeah, that would probably help. You know, being on the right street and all. We'll be there in however long it takes to go backward alphabetically from S to F. So maybe five to seven minutes."

Emily hung up before staring blankly at the group of men at the table, her expression clearly wondering if that conversation just transpired.

Rossi was the first to speak in his typically snide fashion, "That good, huh?"

Prentiss furrowed her brow in mock anger, "Gosh. I told them 14th to F then hang a right, in Downtown DC. What part of 14th to F sounds like_ 'just kidding, I really want you to take 14th to suburbia and play house with the soccer mom's?'_ I mean, seriously, what the fuck ladies?"

Derek laughed amidst noticing the playfulness laced with more hostility than normal and offered while pushing back from the table, "Let me get you a drink Prentiss, you sound like you could use one."

"Thanks." Emily acknowledged while reaching into her purse for two $20 dollar bills. "A shot of Goldschlager please. You know what, make that two. And toss in a Jägerbomb, too. I've had these headaches for weeks; I may as well give myself a reason to wake up with one, right?"

Cataloging the drink information along with the need to make sure Prentiss had a designated driver to get her home safely, he proceeded toward the bar. He passed Garcia and JJ on their way in and opted for ordering a round of beers in addition to Emily's drinks.

Hotch only stayed long enough to finish his beer from Morgan before heading home. Afterall, what kind of person turns down a free beer? Rossi left as well, but neither gave specific reasons as to why, nor did they need to.

During some friendly conversation a few minutes later, Reid announced, "I'm going to head out too, guys."

Mischievously interested as to why, JJ perked up before grabbing the plastic stick from one of Emily's drink and proceeded to glide it across her bottom lip, "oh yeah? You got a hot date or somethin', Doctor?"

Reid answered sincerely, "Nope, but I finally saved enough money for the three volumes in the set of _The Encyclopedia of Espionage, Intelligence, and Security_, and it should have been delivered today."

Eager and interested to ask where he ordered it from, Emily began speaking, "Oooh! I've wanted…"

Oblivious to Emily currently talking, JJ questioned, "You're serious, aren't you?"

Spencer deadpanned, "Of course I'm serious. Why would I make that up?"

Morgan continued the questioning with a query of his own, "Do you ever wonder why you can't find a date?"

Pondering the question for several seconds, he finally replied, "no, not really. Why should I be fake for someone else to like me? There's a girl out there that's interested in these things too, but until she finds me or I find her; I'll make do."

Morgan continued with genuine interest now, "How do you expect to find her when you're holed up in your apartment forever?"

Disregarding the future line of negative questions, Reid chose to make his exit. Politely, he made eye contact with the three women and offered, "Good night ladies," moving his eyes to Morgan's, "and you too Derek," before heading toward the exit.

JJ stopped drinking at two beers in order to see to it that Emily, Garcia, and Morgan made it home safely.

Two hours and several drinks by her colleagues later, JJ could be seen escorting her friends to her vehicle in order to drop them off at their respective homes to sober up overnight. Opting for taking care of Emily for the remainder of the evening, JJ dropped Morgan off at home first, before taking Garcia home and ensuring she made it inside safely. JJ walked Garcia up to her door and gave her a hug before retreating slowly. After Penelope was shot at her own doorstep, JJ refused to take any additional chances with something as precious as human life.

Garcia called after her quietly, "Honey, is everything okay with Emily? She seems a little, I don't know, _off_ lately. And the drinking tonight, what's that about? She never drinks."

Crossing her arms over her chest, JJ secured her hands tightly atop her shoulders, "If I'm honest, I'm not really sure, but I wanted to try to talk to her, that's why I am dropping her off last. I know she's seeing someone new, so maybe it's related to that."

"I hadn't thought about that, but I could see it. Just promise me you'll try to fix our precious girl."

JJ assured, "Of course I will, Pen."

Garcia closed and locked her door before peering through the curtains. Once satisfied that Garcia was safe, JJ proceeded back to her vehicle and headed toward her own home to grab a toothbrush and some attire to sleep in. Garcia watched until JJ drove away before turning out the porch light to get some sleep.

* * *

**A/N #2: **Don't hate on _The Encyclopedia of Espionage, Intelligence, and Security_. It's fucking brilliant and I own it, so that makes it even more awesome. Oh, and I know you want to tell me how awesome I am, so by all means, go ahead and review.


	2. Game On

**A/N #1:** I ended Chapter #1 earlier than I had wanted to, but I will try to get this one to a proper ending point.

**A/N #2:** Those that inquired, I didn't forget about my other story. You'll get your fix; but this right now is my way of self-medicating. Once I get done with Chapter 4 here, I'll update _It's Not You_.

* * *

While heading back toward downtown DC, JJ glanced sideways at Emily staring out the window into the night. JJ reached her right hand across the center console, placing it upon the brunette's thigh, startling her from her thoughts. Emily turned her attention toward the blonde and offered a slight smile before casting her eyes briefly down at the hand on her thigh, and then back out the window once again.

Twenty minutes of silence later, just before midnight, JJ pulled up in front of Emily's condo.

Emily broke the uncomfortable silence between the two of them, "You know, you don't have to stay, JJ. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. I'm not even drunk."

JJ interrogated with no intention of letting Prentiss off the hook, "Are you going to have another drink if I leave?"

"Most likely. But what's the big deal, really?" Emily spoke incredulously, "I'm not an alcoholic. I very rarely drink; I just felt the desire to tonight. Tomorrow, I won't have that desire anymore."

Choosing to meet the brunette on her terms, "Fine Prentiss, then I'll have one or two or three with you. What's the harm? If you don't want to talk about what's going on, then you can't get rid of me either."

Emily stated firmly, "I don't want to get rid of you, JJ. But what do you mean _'What's going on?'_"

Questioning accusatorily, JJ spat, "You're really going to sit there and pretend nothing is wrong?"

"I'm not pretending. There really is nothing wrong, I made an executive decision to have a couple of drinks and decided that I was entitled to that." Emily looked across the car to catch JJ's bright blue eyes boring holes through her. Realizing the need to offer an actual explanation for something, anything, "I've had these headaches for the better part of a month and I've already missed two days of work since then because of it. I wanted a reason for why it feels like there's a cinder block crushing my skull. Tonight, I am giving my brain a reason."

"Okay, okay, so everything is good with the significant other then? She's good?"

"Yeah, she's good," Emily confirmed sincerely before opening the car door to head inside.

Hiding her dejected state, JJ responded, "Glad to hear it." Moving around the car quickly, JJ grasped Emily's arm to turn her attention, ensuring her playful banter would be portrayed properly, "If I find out later that you're lying to me, I am going to kick your scrawny little punk ass, Prentiss. FBI-style. I promise that you'll miss more than two days of work then."

Emily chuckled while nodding at the security guard on her way toward the elevator of her condo, "Oooh, I'm shakin'. Can you tell?" A giggle and brief pause later, she continued "But really, I have an appointment to get my eyes checked tomorrow to see if that's where the headaches are coming from. Though I was just there two months ago for an examination to get my driver's license renewed."

JJ inquired while Emily pushed the button for her floor, "Anything else feel out of the norm lately? Or just the headaches?"

"Not really," Emily stated before taking a pause while watching the numbers of passing floors flash in front of her. Upon reaching the proper floor, she proceeded to explain, "but it's hard to concentrate on anything else when it feels like some twisted person is using a jackhammer to get inside my head."

"I wouldn't mind that." JJ offered while following a silent Emily to her door, accounting for how that might be perceived, "Being inside your head, that is."

Emily pondered the multiple connotations brewing beneath those words, but chose not to delve into it. Upon opening her door, she spoke, "You make us up some drinks and I will be right back."

Emily wandered half-drunk into her bedroom to change her clothes. She tossed her purse and cellphone onto the chair before unbuttoning her shirt and balling it up to launch it across the room into the hamper. She put her hands up above her head as if she were about to make a game-winning shot. She missed. She always did, but that's evidenced by the heaping pile of laundry taking up residence just alongside the empty hamper. Unbuttoning and unzipping her slacks, she wiggled them down and kicked them off. This time she left them on the floor at the closet door, opting to toss on a pair of navy blue and white Adidas tricot pants and a vintage Yale t-shirt for comfort. After changing, she caught sight of her phone and took the opportunity to send a quick text message to her girlfriend, letting her know that she was home safely for the evening.

After sending the text, she felt compelled to prop herself upon her bed and open the lid on her laptop, waving her finger over the touchpad in order to wake it from its slumber. She gawked at her Start menu for what seemed like several minutes before finally clicking the Start button and selecting the Google Talk icon and signing in; _it's now or never_, she thought.

Staring at the screen name of her best friend, her co-worker, her confidante and drinking partner for the remainder of the evening, she tapped out a short message about how she'd been drinking Goldschlager, but isn't really drunk. Then another message, this time much deeper. Several minutes after sending message number two, she sent a third message. Realization had set in that it was, and is, real. Her romantic feelings for Jennifer Jareau are out there. JJ didn't use Google Talk anymore, so that's why she chose the method of cowardly admission, but is that really all it was? Not having the brainpower to think it over anymore, Emily closed the lid on her laptop and made her way quickly to the living room where JJ was seated with an unopened bottle of Goldschlager and two glasses.

Emily looked on and spoke with a mortified undertone, "Are you fucking serious, Jareau? Tumblers? You know you're supposed to drink that stuff as shots, right?"

"So what? You scared I'll drink you under the table, Prentiss?"

"Not hardly. I got this. Game on, JJ." Emily challenged.

Emily and JJ proceeded to drink the entire bottle of Goldschlager while sharing many personal details about themselves. Luckily for both parties involved, most of what was said would forever remain a Vegas-style blur.

Passed out on the sofa together the next day, they were startled from their drunken slumber by the shrill noise radiating from a back bedroom.

JJ, in her sleepy state, shoved Emily multiple times until she fell off the sofa, "Could you please go shut that shit off? It is way too early for this."

Dragging herself to her bedroom, Emily checked her phone that had just impolitely notified her of the 11:30 AM alarm she'd set to remind her that she needed to be at the eye doctor in an hour. Choosing not to blow off her appointment, she walked back into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee before heading to take a shower. Thirty minutes and a cup of coffee later, Emily entered her living room to find JJ asleep uncomfortably on the sofa. Smiling inwardly, she knelt down in front of and lightly shook the blonde until her eyes blinked open several times.

"Hey you," Emily greeted affectionately, "I need you to take me to my car so that I can go to the eye doctor. My appointment is in 30 minutes."

JJ countered, "Can't you just take my car? I'm like dying here. Literally, I feel like I could be."

Brushing the matted blonde strands off of JJ's face, Emily confirmed, "You're not dying, I assure you. And yes, I will take your car." Moving away from the blonde, she spoke louder so that her voice would carry, "While I'm gone, you should move to the bedroom, it's waaay more comfortable. Eat my food, use my shower, wear my clothes, I don't care. I'll be back in an hour."

After hearing the locks click into place, JJ pulled herself off of the sofa and headed into the bedroom to catch some more sleep. Noticing the bedside clock flashing 12:07 PM, she decided she didn't need any additional sleep. Instead, she grabbed Emily's laptop and started toward the kitchen for what she really needed; a cup of coffee.

Coffee cup in her right hand, laptop in her left, JJ drifted toward the dining room table to take a seat. After several sips, she opened the laptop lid. On screen, she noticed her name atop a chat window and proceeded to read it. It didn't feel much like an invasion of privacy since she could just as easily log in as herself and view the same messages. Upon reading them, JJ sat in stunned silence for several minutes. Now incapable of comprehending any news story available on the interwebs, she closed the laptop and returned it to where she'd found it.

Emily arrived back an hour later, calling from the doorway to see if JJ was still asleep. JJ appeared rather anxious to get home, citing the desire for a hot shower and additional sleep. She took the brunette to pick up her car from the previous night's bar before heading home for some much needed alone time. Alone time to process her most recent discoveries.

* * *

**A/N #3:** You know the drill. Read it. Then review it because you rock my world. I promise in the next two chapters it'll all fall into place and you'll begin to understand all of this.


	3. Fix It

**A/N #1:** I have a bit, actually it's more like a **BIG**, potty mouth and it's showcased on an semi-leet level here. My advice to you? Just get over it or get used to it because it's going to get worse. :)

* * *

JJ sat quietly in the driver's seat as she chauffeured Emily back to her car. The silence forced her mind to wander to the messages she'd read on Emily's laptop. The knowledge began to wear on her as she cycled through an hours' worth of unanswered questions that seemed to get more intense as the time ticked on. _Why this way? Why would this smart, confident, undeniably sexy woman stoop to such junior high antics? God damnit, why would she even consider ruining the closeness that we've been building between us? Is this just some sort of a joke? She's never even appeared interested before, why now? Uh, yeah, so what the fuck Emily?_

Emily noticed JJ's distraught appearance and inquired, "Hey you. Is everything okay?" Watching the blonde carefully for a handful of seconds, Emily noticed that it didn't appear that she'd even registered a question had even been posed. Because of this, she tried again; this time more forcefully, "JJ…? JJ!"

Still no response or even an acknowledgment of the existence of other life within the car, Emily leaned her head back and closed her eyes trying to piece together the events of the night previous. Unfortunately for her, beyond the messages sent from Google that she knew JJ hadn't and probably never would read, she couldn't remember much of anything. The troublesome thoughts, the unknowing, the extremely awkward silence made her assume that she'd in fact done something, probably everything, entirely wrong.

Five minutes later, a dejected Emily eased herself out of JJ's car and thanked her for the ride. Unsure she wanted to see the remnants of last night's fuck up reflected in JJ's eyes, she couldn't bare meeting them. Instead of peering inside to make eye contact with the blonde as she normally would, she closed the door and looked off into a neighbor's yard with peculiar interest, similar to a rubbernecker watching a car accident.

Emily's inability to be comfortable in her presence told JJ all that she really needed to know. The messages meant nothing because if they did, or were an accurate depiction of the brunette's feelings, she would at least make eye contact. In fact, if she cared at all, she wouldn't appear so disappointed and disinterested to be around her. All JJ really wanted was for Emily to look at her, just once, to see for herself the unmistakable and unavoidable love that was overflowing from her eyes in the form of pained tears.

Unwilling to draw attention to her face by wiping the tears away, she let them fall until Emily was out of sight. Once assured that Emily couldn't hear her, she shouted after her with a summation of her days' torment, "Fuck you Emily Prentiss! Fuck you. I love you so fucking much, but I want so badly to fucking hate you right now. Just… God damnit, just fuck you. Ugh."

An oblivious Emily entered her condo and dropped her keys upon the kitchen counter, not bothering to hang them on the key rack. She moved into the living room and closed all of her blinds, feeling much too exposed with them open. Finally she went to her room and changed her clothes into something more comfortable before falling into bed.

She woke the next morning, a Sunday, at 3:26 AM with the need to vomit. Arched over her toilet, she violently emptied the minimal contents of her stomach before resting a few moments on the floor. The cold tile floor and walls felt stellar on her sweat laced legs, arms and back. The disturbing remnants of bile in her mouth forced her to get up and brush her teeth. The taste still lingered after the first brushing so she tried to rid herself of it with mouthwash before brushing again.

Realizing that she'd probably just gotten a virus that'd need to run its course, she crawled back in bed and called her girlfriend Gwen. Hearing her voice always seemed to make her feel better and they talked until she couldn't stay awake any longer. 10 hours later, at nearly 4 pm, Emily awoke in a pool of her own sweat. Disturbed by the prospect of still being sick, Emily forced herself up and peeled off her damp clothing and sheets before tossing them into the washing machine. She pulled on a clean pair of shorts, t-shirt, and running shoes before heading out for a run. Her usual summertime approach to ridding herself of any unwelcome illness was to exercise vigorously and sweat it out so she did just that.

Back at home and a quick shower later, Emily climbed onto her sofa and waited for her sheets to finish drying. Before the cycle ended, she was asleep until her cell phone alarm went off at 5:45 AM on Monday morning. Still not feeling better, Emily checked her temperature. 100.9. An inaudible "Jesus fuck, not now!" escaped her lips into the quiet room before dialing Hotch to inform him that she was sick and wouldn't make it into work.

The following day she still wasn't feeling much better, but the team hadn't been called away on a case the previous day and the likelihood of that happening again was fairly slim. Emily walked quietly into the bullpen a few minutes before 8 am. She stopped by her desk long enough to drop off her purse before heading off to the break room for a cup of coffee.

Derek balled up a piece of paper and rifled it at Dr. Reid to get his attention. Reid turned around with a scowl to find Morgan pointing at Emily with his pencil, a silent question.

Unsure what the act of pencil-pointing meant, he inquired, "What?"

Derek exclaimed as Emily moved farther out of earshot, "Any idea what's with her?"

Speaking in a literal context, "She called in sick yesterday; she's probably sick." He nodded for reassurance.

"No, it's gotta be more than that. Prentiss doesn't get sick."

"Well, go ask JJ then. She's her best friend, I'm sure she knows."

Morgan smirked at the young genius, "Good thinking. I'll be right back."

As Derek went to interrogate JJ, Hotch entered the bullpen and looked around. Spencer looked up at him as he asked, "Is Emily in yet?"

Reid advised "Yeah, I think she's in the break room. Anything I can help with?"

"No, I just had a question about a file she submitted last week. Please send her into my office when you see her. Okay?"

Emily returned, looking livelier and feeling more upbeat after having had several sips of coffee between the break room and the bullpen. Reid announced upon seeing Emily re-enter his vision, "Oh hey Em. Hotch wants to see you. He said he has a question about something you submitted last week…?" He ended his statement in the form of a question.

Emily nodded her acknowledgment and headed toward Hotch's office, realizing on her way that she didn't submit any paperwork last week. Knocking lightly on the half open door, she pushed it open further, and voiced her confusion, "Reid told me that you had a question about something I submitted last week…?"

Hotch motioned for her to close the door and have a seat. Once she'd satisfied both requests, he asked simply, "Is everything okay with you Prentiss?"

Emily raised an eyebrow but confirmed, "Yeah. I'm just getting over a bit of a three-day flu bug."

Hotch asked in a disbelievingly pointed fashion, "Are you sure? You've missed three days of work this month."

"I know that, Sir. I have the time to cover all three days. And I was legitimately not feeling well. What exactly is it that you're accusing me of?" Emily defended.

Backpedaling slightly, "I'm not accusing you of anything. Before this month, you'd never missed a day; then you go and miss three non-consecutive days." He searched her face and softened his interrogation approach upon meeting her eyes, "That concerns me. Whatever is going on with you Prentiss, fix it."

Emily concluded, "I'm not quite sure that I understand what you mean, Sir."

Venturing into not-so-Hotch-like territory, he offered, "I know that I can seem at times, most times actually, like I don't have a heart, but I do have one. And I'm here as your friend, not your boss, if you want to or need to talk."

"Thank you for the offer, but I really don't think that anything is wrong."

* * *

**A/N #2:** So yeah, you should review or something since you know that you want to. And hell, even if you don't want to, I want you to! Even the haters. :)


	4. Appearances

I wrote most of this over 2 months ago because it was going to be the start of Chapter 1 back when I first thought about writing my experiences. Based on the way things have gone since then though, I felt it necessary to showcase some of the background in order to accurately capture the future whirlwind of emotions properly. Hence why you have three chapters before this one. And this is where the whirlwind begins.

So I haven't edited much (other than adding the conversation between Emily and JJ that I am quite positive I might be stabbed for, literally). I didn't edit anything else though for the sake of accurately describing the precise details (before my brain started to fail me) of what ranks up near the top of being one of the shittiest days of my 27 year existence. So if you've read my other stories and realize it doesn't fit in my typical type of timeline at the end of Chapter 3, it will. :)

Okay, on with the show.

* * *

July 13, 2010: This day began much like most days previous. Nothing appeared to be out of the norm, really.

_Appearances_. They can be deceiving, can't they?

Emily awoke to the fan next to her bed blowing air into her face at an intense pace. After all, it was mid-July and something needed to keep the stale air circulated throughout the night. The thermostat sat poised to kick the air conditioner on when the temperature rose above 69 degrees, but it seemed to become temperamental at night. Each morning, it felt more like 96 degrees when her blaring alarm clock startled her from sleep.

She gazed up at the ceiling, an unconscious smile adorning her lips while thinking of her girlfriend. They hadn't quite been seeing one another for a month yet, but it seemed to be going well. They'd stay up at night, talking on the phone for hours sharing details of the daily goings on.

At this point, she knew she'd been tired lately, maybe you could even say she'd been dragging through her days, but that comes with the honeymoon phase of a relationship, doesn't it? It seems plausible, neither one of them were getting as much sleep as they used to. Even the sleep she used to get, coupled with the travel schedule wasn't conducive to consistently being a fully functional member of society. Perhaps the lack of sleep explains the frequent headaches and onset of recurring flu-like symptoms, too.

Eyes effectively dried out from the bedside fan, Emily squeezed them tightly shut before she groaned and forced herself out of bed toward the bathroom.

She opened the shower door and turned on the hot water. It's always the hot water first. Three complete turns to the left knob before giving one partial turn to the right. She removed her shorts and tank top before placing her hand underneath the spray to check the temperature. It's a psychological thing; she knows the water temperature is always perfect, but she checks it anyway before climbing in.

Fifteen minutes later, she stood in her closet wearing a loose fitting t-shirt and shorts. Her unkempt, towel-dried hair fell wherever gravity wanted it. She took out a pair of black dress slacks, suit jacket, and settled on an eggplant colored button down dress shirt. She thrust the three hangers onto her bed before retreating back to her bathroom.

First, she called upon Paul Mitchell to help her detangle the mess atop her head. Once detangled, she grabbed a half-full bottle of Nexxus Heat Protexx to ensure her hair would remain soft no matter how many days in a row she tortured it with a blow dryer. With her hair nearly dry, she grabbed her favorite product: Bed Head After Party, and compressed the pumped white substance into her palm. She loved the way it makes her hair shine and on top of that, it smelled pretty damn good all day long.

Emily turned on the water and shoved her toothbrush under while looking at herself in the mirror. She smirked, reciting the same five words she's told herself every morning for years. "You're a fuckin' rockstar Prentiss."

Back to her room, she put on the clothes she'd set out for herself on her bed, grabbed her purse, put on her shoes and headed out the door. She walked to her car and stuck the key in the lock to unlock it. She has keyless entry, who doesn't? But not using it is a large part of her cynical nature. She understands how the lock and unlock codes are transmitted as well as how easily they can be stolen during transmission.

On the way into the office, she stopped by Dunkin' Donuts to grab a dozen donuts and eight coffee; easily transported thanks to the invention of the cardboard, quad-cup holder.

That's when she first noticed it, while waiting in line. She shrugged her shoulder a few times to not draw attention to her discomfort. Minutes felt like hours while waiting to get back to her car. Once inside with the donuts on the seat and coffee situated strategically on the passenger side floor, she unbuttoned the top button of her shirt and thrust her right hand inside to readjust the bra strap over her left shoulder.

Throughout the day, she adjusted it several more times, making a mental note to never wear this bra ever again.

At the end of the day, she sat in her car and repositioned her bra strap one last time. This time though, she felt the area trying to determine what it was that was actually causing the displeasure.

Mortified, she did what any irrational human being would do. She went home and ordered Chinese take-out, watched Grey's Anatomy re-runs and pretended that there wasn't a lump protruding from above her left shoulder blade.

Knowing that there were two logical people to turn to in this situation, she pondered both. First, there's her girlfriend. Her girlfriend that she'd just recently started seeing. Not wanting to inadvertently worry her too much, or cause her to re-think their relationship over what could potentially be nothing, she decided against telling Gwen just yet.

Her other choice was to call her best friend. Emily closed her eyes to replay one of the last conversations that they'd had just a few days after their team's night out.

* * *

_Two weeks prior:_

Emily had gone home at lunch time the day of her minor interrogation from Hotch and spent most of the next week there as well, but on Thursday afternoon, she received a phone call.

Emily answered in a raspy voice, "Hello?"

JJ replied half-heartedly, "I just wanted to check on you, I didn't hear back from you last night."

Emily replied as enthusiastically as any sick person could, "I know I said I would reply last night, but I ended up not... obviously. I fell asleep until 1 pm today, and I only woke up because I felt sick. Then I went back to sleep until about five minutes ago. I woke up for the same reason. I am going to go back to bed. Instead of promising to write you something coherent and logical in an established time frame, I will promise to write you when I feel better."

Waiting for a response and not receiving one, Emily continued, "Anyway, you take care of yourself and I'm going to go let my body try to get better. I hope to see you soon."

Annoyed, JJ offered a response, "You never need to reply to anything I send you; I've told you that several times. And your messages have kind of had no heart in them since the weekend anyway. I have a few ideas why that is, and they're probably not all that wrong. So yeah, as for your reply, don't worry about it. I do hope you're feeling better soon though. And take care of yourself."

Unsure what exactly JJ was trying to say, Emily defended, "My messages have had no heart? Really? I don't feel obligated to respond to anything that you said. I just wanted to give it the proper frame of mind is all."

"Well there's no need." Moving to end the conversation, JJ continued, "Take care anyway."

Clearly confused and hurt by the cold responses, Emily questioned, "Is that your way of telling me good bye? Because I don't know what else to make of it."

JJ stated flatly, "I don't know. You can take it in whichever way you want to."

"Can I ask what's happened that makes you just want to walk away now? I'll respect your wishes to leave you alone, if that's what you want though."

Agitated, JJ concluded, "Your question, I don't even know how to answer. What I want, is for you to do what you want. Which is pretty much why I said to take what I said in the way that you want to."

Emily affirmed, "I want you to care, and if you don't, then just tell me. I don't want our friendship to end, but it already feels like it did."

"I don't see why it matters to you whether I care or not." JJ professed, "I'm pretty certain that it wouldn't affect you a great deal, if at all, if this were to end now. So with that, just do what you want."

Making her final declaration, Emily accepted, "I can't believe you would even say that to me. Like I never cared about you. I'm sorry, but I can't fight for something that you don't feel anything for, and so with that, good bye."

* * *

Can she rightfully still call JJ her best friend after that, really? It didn't take long to realize how silly it seemed to even be considering calling her for advice; not when the only things they discuss now are work-related.

Later that evening, she made a phone call to her girlfriend.

"Hey Baby! How are you?" Gwen questioned.

Pondering what to say, Emily settled on, "I'm pretty good, and you?" before losing herself momentarily in her own thoughts. Fearful and thoroughly distracted, Emily tried to focus on the conversation with Gwen while also trying not to draw too much attention to the pain she felt over quite possibly never being able to rectify the mess she created with JJ.

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**A/N #1:** Reviews are cool; leave me one.


	5. Curly I's L's and T's

**A/N #1**: The Rocket Summer rocks my world for the sound and deliciously eloquent wording of the song "Walls" which ultimately helped me extract myself from the emotional rut I was left in after drudging up memories (writing the ending of Chapter 4) that I'd have rather left in the past. So you should check out out because you're not a hater.

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As usual, the night of Chinese take-out and Grey's Anatomy re-runs put Emily's life back into perspective. She may be lacking her best friend. She may have her boss concerned about her quality of work and commitment to the team. She may be letting a wedge creep between herself and her girlfriend; well, she could be the driving force of aforementioned wedge. She may also have an annoying and unexplained lump where lumps shouldn't be. A startling and incessant beeping of a patient's heart rate monitor caused a quick glance to the television, effectively shifting her thoughts ever so slightly. Her life may be a bit of a mess right now, but atleast she's better off than _those_ people. Atleast she's not… _dead_. Right?

The next morning, Emily woke before her alarm feeling more refreshed than she had in weeks.

Taking the opportunity for self-diagnosis, Emily grabbed her laptop and walked to the kitchen. She fired the lid open to turn the power on then moved to start a pot of coffee. Once properly booted, Emily entered her password to load her desktop. Since Google knows everything, she opted to use that to search the most logical combination of words to describe her situation. '_Lump on shoulder, hmm, that should work_.' Emily giggled to herself upon thinking of the strange combinations of words that people probably enter into search engines.

Ten minutes and a half cup of coffee later, Emily positioned her hands on the lip of her counter top, transferring her weight. She closed her eyes as a smile crept onto her face; the likelihood of the lump being a lipoma, or other benign cyst, mass, lump, or tumor firmly embedded in her mind. After ascertaining this knowledge, Emily moved effortlessly as though she were floating through her condo and into the bathroom to prepare for her work day. Briefly gazing at her disheveled appearance in the mirror, she turned to her right in order to see the reflection of the lump on her left shoulder in the mirror. She whispered toward it's reflection while shaking her head in disbelief, "you don't scare me."

She watched her own actions through the mirror as her right hand maneuvered the skin around the lump. To an onlooker, it would appear at times as though she was attempting to capture it between her fingernails; perhaps an attempt to free it from her body. To her, she was fascinated and wanted an understanding of what was going on underneath the surface. Emily took notice of how it seemed wholly attached, assuming this meant it had clearly been present in her body for longer than she'd originally thought, but it didn't hurt.

She then thought to herself, '_Well, "hurt" is a relative term. It doesn't hurt too much and only when pressure is applied at certain points.'_

A still somewhat skeptical Emily devised, over the next several minutes of negotiating the skin around her shoulder, the explanation that her mind would require in order to allow herself to function at work without worry. Shortly thereafter, she showered and got ready as usual; arriving at work early. Upon sitting down at her desk, she found a small unmarked envelope. It looked to be the size of a thank you note. Pondering momentarily who could be sending her a thank you note, she opted for the finding out the easy way; by opening it.

Her heart sank. She'd spot those F's drawn half below the text line and curly I's, L's and T's anywhere.

_I tried convincing myself that you're okay with this. Hell, maybe_  
_you are by now, but I'm not. I'm sorry it took me so long to_  
_apologize for walking out of your life. You'd think, given my job_  
_that I'd do a better job of being able to communicate, but you_  
_turn my brain to mush. It's not an excuse, it just is what it is._  
_I miss you and I'm lost without you. Can we fix this? This = us?_  
_-JJ_

Emily tucked the note back into its unlabeled home and held it over the garbage can for several seconds, debating on throwing it out. Opting to not do anything irrational just yet, she chose to open her desk drawer and tuck it away to address at a later date. Choosing instead to make herself a cup of coffee before addressing more 'important' things, such as catching up on the astronomical amount of paperwork she'd fallen behind on while out sick. Immediately upon opening the break room door, she silently berated herself for not checking to see if JJ was in her office.

Realizing that it'd be a real jerk move to turn around and walk out now, she did the only thing she could. She mentally prepared herself while entering slowly. '_Compartmentalize, Prentiss! You can do this.'_

"Oh, hey Em. Are you feeling better?" JJ asked, genuinely concerned as she stirred her freshly poured coffee.

_'God! Why does she have to be so fucking lovely? And do that cute I'm-gonna-turn-my-head-slightly-to-the-side thing?_' Thrusting those thoughts to the side, Emily launched into protective mode, admonishing, "Because that's not awkward or anything, right?"

Clearly confused, JJ shook her head slightly, "What do you mean?"

Emily looked around and confirmed no one was present. "You want to do this here?"

JJ squinted slightly as she does when full comprehension is beyond her capabilities. "I'm not quite sure what it is that 'this' is, but we can go to my office if you'd prefer."

Emily huffed, "No thanks. I really don't have much to say. I mean, you kicked me out of your life, realized it wasn't quite working out for you so you write me a note and that's supposed to make it all better? How am I supposed to go back to telling you everything? Or anything at all for that matter? Well, maybe we can get back on track someday, but what's to stop you from doing this again? How do I know you even care how I'm feeling?"

"What happened to me being your best friend?"

Emily seethed, "Exactly! You are the best fucking friend I had. Had, JJ. You fucking abandoned me. But what do you care anyway? You didn't lose your best friend; you still have Pen." Sighing defeated, she continued, "This isn't a video game. There are no do-overs or reset buttons; and you don't just get to turn it on or off when it's convenient for you. I want nothing more than to fix things; you have no idea ho..."

Dr. Reid walked in at that moment, oblivious to the current conversation taking place. He greeted both ladies while en route to the refrigerator to drop off his limited edition Superman lunch box.

Emily's sad eyes met JJ's, a silent sign that they could continue later before her footsteps carried her out of the room, acknowledging Spencer's presence on the way.

JJ hurried out the door as well, quietly calling after Emily from several steps behind. "Emily! Please, just talk to me."

Emily kept herself several steps in front of the blonde, but veered off her traditional path and continued striding toward JJ's office. "Okay, fine. But only because you're drawing attention to us here."

JJ entered her office and closed the door quietly before taking up residence behind her desk. Looking thoughtfully upon Emily for a few brief moments, she smiled inwardly.

Staring expectantly, Emily broke the brief silence. "You wanted to talk. So, talk."

JJ began, "Look. I know I was a cunt to you; I have my reasons for that. I have tried so hard to not think about you, but it seems like all I have are constant reminders of your presence in my life."

_'Not exactly how I'd have begun, but whatever.'_ Emily thought to herself before replying, "I didn't realize I was such a burden because we haven't even spoken. I'm not sure how I can be any _less_ of a presence than I am now."

In an attempt to choose the proper words to avoid another communication nightmare, JJ offered "Just because we didn't speak doesn't mean I am not frequently reminded of you." JJ paused to allow Emily the opportunity to speak only to find her still waiting, clearly anticipating an explanation or further response. Continuing with the first example that came to her mind, JJ concluded while unconsciously moving her hands to her belt, "For instance when my belt buckle makes its way to being slightly off-center and I go to fix it. You've told me hundreds of times how sexy it is on me and each time I fix it; I'm reminded of you."

Emily thought back to the first time she'd noticed and mentioned it; how the clearly off-center belt buckle effortlessly contrasted JJ's dark pants and baby blue shirt. Little did she know at the time that image would be stamped as a constant fixture in her mind. Quite unsure how to respond, she settled for "I tell you that because it's true."

Feeling completely out of her element, JJ confided, "I'm truly and genuinely sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you, especially when you've been sick like you have been. You deserved a friend and I wasn't there."

"You know what really hurts me? I'm not sure how to go back to telling you the big things or even those little random things that only you would understand or care about. How do I know you're not just going to leave again?" Emily placed her hands on her hips and began pacing, "I sent you a message on Google a few weeks back. Obviously things are different now and I wouldn't exactly say it today, but I don't regret having done so."

"When I said I have my reasons; that was one of them. You had literally told me earlier in the evening that you were going to stay with Gwen. Then you tell me that you're in love with me; that it's me that you want; that you'd move across the world for me if I'd asked. What am I supposed to say or do? How am I supposed to feel? Gwen isn't just your girlfriend, she's my friend too. I mean, fuck."

"I'm not really sure, but you probably could have just brought it up with me instead of letting it fester to the point where you couldn't even be my friend anymore. Look where that's left us."

Growing angry, "It's just that..." JJ took a deep breath to calm herself, "You don't love me and you sure as fuck were never _in love_ with me as you claim to have been. It's _different_ already, only two weeks later. Is that right?"

"I said it's different because things are different between us and you can't tell me that they're not." The realization of what JJ had just said dawned on Emily, "God damnit, don't twist my words. We're hardly even friends anymore, so that's why I wouldn't say it now. I never said that because I won't say it that the underlying emotion is gone."

JJ countered, "God, you're so fucking selfish. Don't go all woe is me on me because I questioned the validity of your drunken admission. You can't even say it to me now so how the hell am I supposed to believe it true?"

Feeling the sting of JJ's words, Emily shut down. She knew she couldn't tell her she loved her, not right now, not this way. Not when the once surreal, dream-like sense of safety she'd felt with this woman had been shattered. Destroyed was her ability to tell even the most minuscule details of her life, how could she possibly attempt to say something so all-encompassing?

Hotch interrupted with a knock and quickly stuck his head in the door, "Conference room. Now. We have a case."

Emily thanked the powers that be for extracting her from the metaphorical train wreck between her and JJ.

**

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**A/N #2**: Pssst! I heart reviews.


	6. Precautionary Measures

**A/N #1**: It's shorter than I wanted, but I'll give you something better in the not too distant future. I promise.

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As the first to enter the jet, Emily took a seat near the window and gazed outward, unwilling to face the prospect of JJ sitting next to her. Instead, it was Derek who chose the seat next to her. Calling after her several times, he settled on using his muscular hands to grasp her inward facing shoulder, the left one.

Pain shot through her like a lightning bolt and she jumped. Just as quickly as the pain coursed through her, it left and she offered an apologetic smile toward Morgan. "Sorry about that. I guess I'm just a little jumpy."

Morgan chuckled at her, "yeah, no doubt. Is everything okay with you Prentiss?"

Emily nodded while reasoning, "yeah, I'm quite sure I just wasn't expecting anyone to sneak up on me."

With a smirk, Derek shot back, "You're somethin' else Prentiss. I'm a 6 foot 3 inch tall black man standing directly in front of you in a narrowly confined jet. I hardly snuck up on you."

Finally feeling the comfort return to her form, she relaxed. "If you'd been standing in front of that window I'd have seen you. Now sit down, would you?"

"That's my girl."

The remainder of the team boarded shortly thereafter, en route to Las Vegas. After discussing the case specific details for much of the flights duration, Hotch advised, "Its 114 degrees today; carry a bottle of water with you wherever you go. No excuses. You're all much too important to this team to not take precautionary measures."

Emily closed her eyes and instantly began replaying those words as if they'd been handpicked with the purpose of being hammered into her skull.

Paired with Dr. Reid, Emily went to the first two crime scenes to try to obtain any additional information before meeting with the family of their most recent victim. Finished for the evening around 8:00, Emily decided to turn in early instead of grabbing some dinner with the team. After turning out the lamp next to her bed, she thought back on the day._ 'Too important. Precautionary measures. Team.'_ Hotch's words clearly still at the forefront.

Frustrated with herself, she turned on the television to find something, anything really, to take her mind off of her procrastination. She settled on Save the Last Dance after seeing a momentary conversation between Sean Patrick Harris and Fredro Starr. It seemed like a good choice; light-hearted banter and a laid back storyline. It was something she'd seen enough times that she didn't really have to pay attention to, but would ultimately serve its purpose to detract her mind.

That was, until Julia Stiles appeared on screen and she was flooded with memories of conversations she'd had with JJ. About the movie the Prince and Me. About how she'd once told JJ that she found her to be a classy individual for her work with Habitat for Humanity or that she'd been fascinated to learn that even though she's an actress and has been since middle school, she still had desire to go to college and obtain a degree from Columbia University. She couldn't remember for sure if it Columbia, or even that she'd graduated and mentioned as much. She recalled JJ later bringing it up and informing her that she was right, she did go to Columbia and she graduated with a degree in English Literature.

Emily mumbled rather inaudibly, "Fuck my life. Seriously. This girl has infiltrated every aspect of my life. What the fuck am I going to do? There's probably nothing in this world we haven't discussed."

Completely unsure what to do, she went to take a shower. It seemed like the most obvious option. Maybe after she'd washed the sweat and emotion of the day off of her skin, she'd be able to sleep. It didn't help and she resigned herself to finding something else on the television; preferably without any pretty girls.

She soon realized that sports are safe haven; her and JJ don't watch sports. After 5 minutes of watching baseball, the reasoning behind why it's never made its way into their conversation entered her mind. Muttering out loud, "this shit sucks." It was boring enough to put her to sleep and that's what mattered most.

She woke at the appropriately early time of 6:45 am to meet in the hotel lobby by 7:30. For the first time since arriving in the desert, Emily was thankful for having such hefty travel requirements. Taking into account that Vegas time is two hours behind DC, she'd be able to make an appointment without any of her team members having to find out. She took out her phone and dialed her primary care physician.

A middle aged sounding female answered politely, "Internal medicine, how can I help you?"

Emily quickly hung up the phone and closed her eyes. Startled from her thoughts by the return of Hotch's words, she decided that she'd have to back. She had no choice; the appointment was the only way to confirm that nothing was wrong with her.

The same female answered the phone in the same professional manner, "Internal medicine, how can I help you?"

Emily cleared her throat before speaking, "Yes, um, I need to make an appointment with Dr. Koritzinsky please."

"Have you been here before?"

Emily replied, "Yes, I have."

The receptionist questioned, "Okay, can I get your name please?"

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm a little scatterbrained today. Emily." A brief pause later, she continued, "Emily Prentiss."

Probing for further details, "Alright Miss Prentiss, it does not appear that you're due for your annual yet; what is the nature of the visit?"

Emily became instantly nervous upon discerning that this would be the first time she'd say it out loud, "A lump. I have a lump between the bones of my left shoulder and shoulder blade."

After several moments, the receptionist seemed satisfied with the limited amount of questioning required and exclaimed, "It looks like the next opening that we have is on Thursday, July 22nd at 1 pm. Will that work?"

"Do you have anything early in the morning or near the…" Emily delayed and silently asked herself '_what the fuck are you doing? It's an unexplained lump, not the god damn breakfast club; you're derailing, so stop it. Just take the appointment. Remember, precautionary measures._' "On second thought, just forget what I was asking. Yes, that will work. The 22nd at 1."

"Okay Miss Prentiss. We've got you down for July 22nd at 1 pm."

Emily smiled at the genuinely polite manner of this encounter, "Got it. Thanks. And have a wonderful day."

The intense heat began negatively affecting Emily over the following days and she was more than pleased when the Las Vegas case was wrapped up Monday. She couldn't wait to finally be home, sleeping in her own bed. Before she went home though, she stopped by Hotch's office and gave a rather timid knock.

His head eased up and he announced, "Come on in Emily. What can I help you with?"

She sat in a chair fidgeting mildly while biting her lower lip. Suddenly she stopped, squared her shoulders and looked him in his eyes. It's time to be an adult and act like an adult about the possibilities, "I found a lump. I've made an appointment for this Thursday at 1 pm to have it checked out. I know, it's in the middle of the day and I should have tried to find a better time, but I've known about it for almost a week now and I need to have it looked at. It was the first available appointment. If we end up on a case and I have to take a commercial flight back, I will, I just can't miss this. I hope you'll agree."

Hotch's expressed his concern, "You're right, you need to have it looked at. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, and please do keep me informed of what you find out. I'm asking that of you as your friend, not your boss."

Emily twiddled her thumbs together, "Also, I've not told anyone on the team, and so if anyone asks why I'm not around Thursday afternoon, tell them I'm at the dentist or something."

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**A/N #2**: So, the next chapter should be the the appointment, the subsequent wait and finally the results. My Inbox enjoys reviews almost as much as I do, so you should make us both happy with some love. :)


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